Confessional
by SuperKat
Summary: It starts out as normally as any other Potions class...


**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Harry Potter or anything or anyone associated with him. He and everything his name implies belongs to J.K. Rowling and Scholastic. I am just using them for my own amusement. I am not making any money off of this. No infringement is intended.

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"But 'Mione..." 

"For the last time, _no."_

"Oh, come on. Just this once?"

"Ronald Weasley, you are a _prefect._ You need to set an example for the younger students. What does it say to the First Years when the prefects skip class?"

"That not all of us are scary over-achievers who – "

"That's not funny. You are a prefect, and you're going to Potions. That's final."

"Fine."

"That goes for you too, Harry."

"Yeah. Down to the Dungeons with us all, mate. Coming?"

"I know, I know. I'm coming."

"Hey... maybe he'll be absent today."

"Wouldn't get your hopes up."

"Why not?"

"When has Snape ever missed a class?"

"When has any professor missed a class? Unlike some of us, they have more of a sense of responsibility than most lawn chairs."

"Lupin did."

"Then again, Lupin was busy eating himself once a month."

"Ron!"

"What? He was!"

"But that's no reason to – "

"Hello, guys."

"Hello, Neville."

"Hi, Neville."

"Hi Neville."

"Well, well, well... look what the lion dragged in. Potty. Weasel. Granger. Longbottom. Longbottom! Got both ears back on, then? Good to see. Did Pomfrey shrink them for you? That way you can actually keep something in that head of yours."

"Shove off, Malfoy."

"Manners, Potty, manners. Hasn't your Mudblood friend taught you respect for your prefects?"

"Malfoy ..."

"Ron, Harry, sit down. Just ignore him."

"That's right, Weasel. Listen to your girlfriend, now."

"Ron! Ron, relax. Sit down. Ignore him."

"I swear, one day I'll... Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"M'fine. Malfoy! What did you do?"

"Harry..."

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"Harry..."

"Look at my chair! You did this, didn't you. Real funny!"

"Harry!"

"Calm down..."

"I have no idea what you're..."

"SILENCE!"

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"Potter!"

"Yes, professor."

"May I inquire as to the ruckus you feel entitled to cause in my class today, Mr Potter?"

"Sir, his chair – "

"It's only got three legs!"

"Malfoy must've – "

"SILENCE!"

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"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, when and if I desire your input I will ask for it. Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, professor."

"Do you have any idea as to what happened here, or why?"

"None at all, sir."

"And do you think it would behoove Mr. Potter to find a chair with the proper number of legs and sit down?"

"Very much, sir."

"Good. We are in agreement. Potter!"

"Yes, professor."

"Five points from Gryffindor for drawing unnecessary attention to yourself in my classroom. You ought to know better by now. Now, sit down."

"Yes, professor."

"Now. Today, we will be attempting to brew the Confessional Potion. If properly brewed, though in this classroom that does not happen often, it will causes the drinker to blurt out two statements about him or herself that he or she would rather keep secret. It is very similar to the Veritaserum Potion, only not as strong and not as long lasting. Generally used for practical jokes or in the cases of petty crimes in which the stronger truth potions are unnecessary, the Confessional Potion is highly useless, and I would have no interest in attempting to teach it to you were it not commonly featured on your O.W.L.s, and an introduction to what the select few whom I will accept into my NEWT classes will be using for the Veritaserum. In order to increase your chances of formulating something remotely similar to the Confessional Potion, I have arranged your tables so that you will work in groups of three. I myself will be creating a small sample on my desk. Those of you who cannot seem to formulate your own Confessional Potion can look at mine to see where you went wrong. The ingredients and procedure are written in your books. Begin."

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"Okay, I think we're doing well so far. Now, it says to add three bowtruckle legs."

"Three?"

"Three."

"Three?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so where are... ew! I'm not touching those!"

"Ron, quit being such a baby."

"But..."

"Oh stop it already, I'll do it."

"Okay, good. Remember, only thre- Harry!"

"Oops."

"Harry, what were you thinking? Pick them up and put them in, not dump them!"

"Sorry."

"There are three in there now..."

"That was more than three! Harry,that was half the jar!"

"Well... I slipped. First mistake so far, not bad for Ron and me."

"Fine. But if we only get an A on this, it's your fault."

"Hey, we'll have passed. I can live with that."

"Be quiet, Ron, we need to keep going or we'll fall behind. The next step is the powdered newt tail... there should be a bottle of it somewhere..."

"Got it."

"Good. Now, pour that into the brew at a slow and steady pace for three seconds while stirring the potion in a counterclockwise direction... you shouldn't end up using it all. Three seconds."

"Three again?"

"Three."

"Three. We can handle that, right Harry?"

"Course. I'll pour, you count, Hermione, you stir."

"Sounds good to me... one...

"Don't mess up, Weasel King."

"... two... five, no three, no... stop, Harry!"

"Ron!"

"Ron!"

"Hermione, fix it!"

"_Five_, Ron?"

"Hurry up! Fix it! It's bubbling!"

"I'm sorry, I got flustered!"

"_Five?"_

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Just fix it!"

"I'm fixing it, I'm fixing it. Honestly, Ron. Five?"

"I'm sorry! I got... distracted."

"Ah!"

"Longbottom!"

"Ssssorry, professor!"

"Mr. Longbottom, how many cauldrons would you say you have destroyed thus far this term?"

"Um..."

"Answer me!"

"A lot, sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom, it has indeed been 'a lot.' Your incompetence never ceases to amaze me. Now, if someone were to drink this... if you three boys should like to call it a potion... do you think he or she would immediately make an embarrassing confession?"

"Nnnno sir."

"_Ron!_ _What are you doing?"_

"Mr. Finnigan? Mr. Thomas?"

"No, professor."

"No, sir."

"_Ron! You're a prefect! Come back here and sit down!"_

"At least we agree on something. Do you think that he or she would say anything at all? Me neither. Because I think he or she would be dead. Do you agree?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"_Ron!"_

"And do you think one could expect a similar result from the ingestion of Potter's potion?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir.'

"And what makes you say that?"

"It's foaming, sir."

"Red."

"Foaming red."

"Indeed it is. Five points from each of the six of you for your inability to follow directions."

"Sir, Weasley's – "

"Weasley!"

"Yes sir?"

"One moment ago, when I had my back turned, were you out of your seat? Consider yourself carefully. I would advise you not to lie to me, or bear the consequences."

"Yyyes sir."

"You were, then?"

"Yes, sir.

"And why, pray tell, would you feel the need to stand up? Surely you have more self restraint than that?"

"I... dropped something sir."

"Dropped something, you say?"

"Yes sir."

"Then why, may I ask, is the glass of ice water on my desk suddenly tinted green?"

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"You don't know?"

"Nnnnno, sir."

"And why, if I may, is the ladle dirty? I do not remember dipping it into my sample potion today."

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"You don't know?"

"N-no sir."

"And what if I were to ask you to find out?"

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me. If I were to pour you a sample from my cup and ask you to drink from it, what do you think would happen?"

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"You don't know. Well I suggest you find out."

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"That was not a request, Mr. Weasley. Do it now or it's fifty points from Gryffindor and a week's worth of detention."

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"Well?"

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"Yes?"

"I'm afraid of spiders! I have a crush on Hermione!"

"Ahh!"

"What?"

"He said – "

"Weasley?"

"Did you hear – "

"He likes – "

"Granger?"

"A mudblood!"

"Weasley!"

"He didn't – "

"Spiders!"

"Granger!"

"I can't bel – "

"SILENCE!"

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"That's better. There will be order in my class. Miss Brown, Miss Patil, stop that incessant giggling _now_."

"Yyyes p-professor."

"Mr. Malfoy, please look forward."

"Sorry, professor."

"Mr. Weasley! Sit up in your chair. Thirty points from Gryffindor and detention tonight. I will not have students so out of line in my classroom. Your insubordination is unspeakable. Miss Brown! Miss Patil! I told you to stop laughing."

"Sssorry."

"Sorry."

"Mr. Weasley, I told you to sit up. I have not finished my lesson."

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"Ron?"

"Wh-what? What do you want?"

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been!"

"Yes you have."

"Haven't!"

"You haven't spoken to me for days."

"Yes I..."

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"May I sit down?"

"Sure. It's a free country. I was just leaving, anyway."

"Ron! Ron, come back! Ron? I want to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Please sit down."

"...kay..."

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"Awful trick he played on you. I mean, as a prefect, you really shouldn't be..."

"I know, I know, it was stupid."

"... but really! Snape had no right to put you on the spot like that. No right! I have half a mind to write to Dumbeldore myself. The nerve of him! Maybe I will.."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because... because... it's okay. I don't want... it's okay. Most of them knew I don't like spiders anyway... remember the boggart?"

"Ron..."

"It's okay, really. Don't write to Dumbeldore, or anyone, please."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

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"Ron?"

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"Yeah?"

"About..."

"No! If you've come to rub it in my face, don't bother. I'm shamed as far as I can go."

"I wasn't going to."

"Oh."

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"Look, Ron..."

"Look, Hermione..."

"...I want you to know..."

"...don't think that..."

"... I think that you..."

"... I'm going to..."

"What?"

"What?"

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"You talk first."

"No, you can."

"Okay."

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"I like you too."

"This doesn't have to... what?"

"I like you too."

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"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

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"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh."

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"So... do you..."

"Yes?"

"Do you... d'you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me? Next time, we go, I mean. I mean, you don't have to, if you want to, I mean, we always go together, but, I mean... if you want to..."

"I would love to."

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"Really?"

"Really."

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"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

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"So... that's settled then?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Wow."

"That was easy."

"Yes."

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"So..."

"Ron?"

"Yeah?

"Do you..."

"What?"

"want to..."

"What?"

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"Oh."

"Yeah."

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End file.
